In response to Sean’s honest and insightful comment about the difficulty of always looking for good, I told him that I would be blogging about the topic later. So here goes.
I posted today’s affirmation, “I look for positive aspects in every experience,” mainly (and selfishly) because of my personal current circumstance: I’ve. Been Sick. (Isn’t “sick” an uglyish, sick word?) Sick yesternight and today. Reached a temperature of 102 (and sympathized with/momentarily understood Riboclavin’s thermometer obsession a little more).
I”M GOING ON A TANGENT FOR A SECOND–MIGHT BE BEST TO SKIP TO NEXT PARAGRAPH: I need to make a confession: I’m nothing but a big baby when I’m sick. I fully expect EVERYONE around to coddle me–NOT just to sympathize and intone purportedly uplifting sentences such as, “Oh Neal, I’m so sorry to hear you’re not feeling well. I hope you get to feeling better soon. Butterfly kisses to you.” I mean, what good does that do?! I want EMPATHY, not exactly that the empathizers get sick themselves (well maybe a little so empathic understanding is increased), but that they somehow make me feel better–LITERALLY. I want them to be a little like Jesus (doesn’t Christian mean “little Christ”?), healing the diseased and lame. I told you it’s hard to be around me when I’m sick. It even gets on my nerves that CNN, for example, just continues broadcasting normally, as if I’m not sick and still feel like watching.
Okay, time to get serious. As I experience the symptoms of my flu-ish feeling stomach virus (or whatever it is), the last thing on my agenda is to hunt down the positives in my sick state. Why so hard? Because I don’t FEEL like doing so. And it seems fake somehow to look for good in the midst of bad. But holding to that logic, I allow my feelings to override my ability to be Pollyanna, to look for good. Because good (like CNN) is still “on.” I’m just not watching. So what I try to do (emphasis on “try”) is somewhat empowering. I thank my feelings for showing me what I don’t want (to feel bad, sick, sorry for myself, victim-like)) and then to reach for a thought (any thought) which contains a bit of a relief. For example, when I felt my worst earlier this morning, I still knew, KNEW, the following assertions to be true:
* “I’ve been sicker than this before.” (Though it’s a predominantly negative claim, a nugget of hope is imbedded there. Do you see it?)
* “I’ve always gotten better.”
And then a little later, I said this beautiful affirmation to myself several times:
* “My body knows how to be well and is always moving toward wellness.” (Because, for the most part, doesn’t it?)
These kinds of statements and beliefs FEEL better to say and embrace (And much of happiness and joy is feeling-based, if we really think about it.)
A couple of hours ago, I went to the convenience store to get my third bottle of Gatorade since all this started.
And I noticed good.
Good would have still been there, of course, even if I had not noticed it. What did I notice? Well, you may think it’s silly or trivial, and on one level it most definitely is. On another level, however, both the following tiny examples served the purpose of getting me out of the frequency of bad and into that of good. Pulling up to the store, I saw this Coke sign:
I laughed a little (an improvement), took the above picture, and thought about the implications of “open happiness”: First, I can open joy if I so choose, if I’m in the “right mind” to do the work of the opening. Second, I must be open to happiness, available for joy to rush into my life at any moment. I don’t know about you, but so many times I stay in frustration simply because I do not make the effort of opening happiness or being open to happiness finding me.
I walked into Chu’s and, maybe because I was more open to happiness thanks to Coke, heard the song that was playing inside–Kelly Clarkson’s “What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger.” I know it’s an overused cliché, but what Clarkson sang is true, that is, if we LOOK for the strength in that which hasn’t killed us, if we are open to the strength. Of course, now (like it is with most Abba songs), I can’t get that song off my mind either. But hey, if it doesn’t kill me, I’ll be a stronger and more musical man.
By now, you know the moral to this diatribe: Look for the Good. We usually find what we’re looking for. Take a glance again at the affirmation card I shared with you in the previous post. Notice the word “positive”–it’s a little harder to see than the other words. You have to really look to see it.